


Heaven is a Place in Westeros

by sunkelles



Series: Femslash February 2017 [15]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Kind of based on the Autumn Blooms characterizations, Modern Westeros AU, Mother-Daughter Relationship, San Junipero, at least of cersei and catelyn, because apparently that's a fandom thing? i dunno i'll just go with it, i want arya to be the only single one, minor bran/jojen, minor jon/ygritte, minor rickon/shireen, minor robb/jeyne, minor sansaery, not the rest as much, old ladies in love, san junipero au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-22 00:48:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9574505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunkelles/pseuds/sunkelles
Summary: Catelyn Stark and Cersei Lannister meet and fell in love in the electronic afterlife. The harder part is finding each other in real life, and making things work.or, the San Junipero AU no one asked for





	

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. the plot is lifted almost wholesale from san junipero, so if anyone hasn't seen the episode yet and doesn't want spoilers, you should exit the fic and go watch.  
> 2\. i'm american so i use farhenheit for temperatures. when i say 70 degrees i mean "pleasant" not "a temperature you'd probably die at". and when i say 0 degrees i mean "really fucking cold" not "the point where water freezes"  
> 3\. you know that joke about writing things that nobody cares about? this fic is like, the epitome of that. 
> 
> sorry i thought i should clarify because i know that nobody outside the states uses farhenheit

In San Junipero, the sun always shines. It is always 70 degrees, and there is not a cloud in sight. Paradise has never been more apparent.

 

In Winterfell, however, this is not the case. Not even close. In the deepest days of summer, the weather never goes above 70 degrees. In the deepest parts of winter, it is rarely above 0. Snow and ice coat the ground.

 

Catelyn is lucky that her children who do not live in Winterfell still come for holidays. Bran and Jojen travel six hours from Greywater Watch, Jon and Ygritte have an eight hour drive from beyond the Wall, and Sansa and Margaery take a four hour flight from Highgarden.

 

The Day of the Seven is a large celebration in their household, even though most of the children adhere to the old gods or none at all. There has always been a large celebration for it, and this year is no exception, even though Catelyn is dying, or perhaps because she is dying. She’s not sure which.

 

All of her grandchildren except Anna, Robb and Jeyne’s fifteen year old daughter, have vacated the living room to watch a movie in the basement. Catelyn decides that now is as good a time as any to make the announcement.

 

Catelyn clears her throat, and the conversations stop. The only thing that she can hear is the sitcom playing in the background.

“I would like to speak with the adults in private,” Catelyn says.

“I’m an adult,” Anna, in all her fifteen years of wisdom, says.

“No, you’re not,” Robb says.

“But dad!” she says.

“Adults can watch cartoons,” Jojen says. Bran grins at him.

“Mom and dad don’t,” Anna grumbles.

“But I do,” Jojen says, “come on, it’ll be fun.”

“Fine,” she says. Then Anna and Jojen and head downstairs to the den of sweets and cartoons where the younger grandkids have doubtlessly started some awful cartoon.

That just leaves Robb, his wife Jeyne, Jon, his wife Ygritte, Sansa, her wife Margaery, Rickon, his wife Shireen, Arya, and Bran. 

“What is it mom?” Bran asks. The rest of them look to her expectantly.  
  
"I met someone in San Junipero," Catelyn says. All of the eyes in the room widen.  
  
"Mom," Robb says, "I thought you weren't going to get attached." Robb is intent on dying the natural way, like a true Northerner. He thinks that his mother should follow his father to the afterlife she doesn't believe in.

“She’s a friend,” Catelyn asserts. It’s a lie, but what does that really matter. She’s not exactly going to tell her children about her relationship.

“Mom,” Rickon says, “no offense, but why are you telling us this?” Rickon is forty three years old, but he never developed any semblance of tact.

 "Rickon," Shireen chides. 

“I want to go see her,” Catelyn says firmly. Robb looks ready to tear apart a pillow. Everyone else seems neutral, except for Sansa who is grinning from ear to ear.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Robb asks, “she could be some thirty year old dying druggie.”

“Robb,” Jeyne chides. 

“Where does she live?” Jon asks.

“Lannisport,” Catelyn says, “and well, I can’t exactly drive anymore. I wanted to ask for a ride.” The drive to Lannisport will take two days. This isn’t like Arya driving to the Dreadfort for sporting events. It’s even further than Jon and Ygritte’s house Beyond the Wall.  
  
"I would, mom," Arya says, "I just can't get off work long enough to do that.” Catelyn understands. Arya is her only unwed child, and she just doesn’t have the income to take off a whole week of work. Bran would, she knows, but his paralysis makes things difficult for both him and his husband. Jon and Ygritte live North of the Wall, and Rickon and Shireen live in Dorne. That really just leaves Sansa.  
  
“I would love to drive you, mom," Sansa promises her. Margaery doesn’t look entirely pleased, but she doesn’t say anything either. She knows as well as the rest of them do that Catelyn is dying.  
  
"I don't approve of this," Robb says. Ygritte rolls her eyes.  
  
"You don't approve of anything, Robb, starting to think you get off on being contrary." Jon guffaws, and throws his arm to his face to pretend that he's coughing instead.  
Jeyne looks highly offended, and Catelyn is suddenly very glad the grandchildren are watching a movie downstairs. She doesn't want them involved in this drama.

“I’m going, Robb,” Catelyn says firmly. Sansa nods.

 “I’ll start making the arrangements tomorrow morning,” she promises. Robb sighs, but doesn’t say anything else, and the rest of the adults consider the matter settled. The rest of the gathering goes fairly well, and once some of the grandkids migrate upstairs again, Catelyn almost can’t feel the awkward tension.

 

It takes a few days to get everything ready, including Sansa’s plane ticket back to High Garden for a later date than she originally expected. But they get everything sorted, and soon enough the morning they plan to leave dawns.

 

Sansa starts the car, and hooks her phone up to the car. A moment later _The Reflex_ by Duran Duran plays over the speakers.

“Are you playing eighties music for me?” Catelyn asks.

“Maybe,” Sansa says, grinning, “or maybe I just like eighties music.” 

“More than those indie folk groups you listen to?” she asks skeptically. Sansa looks a little sheepish.

“ _I_ like eighties music more than _you_ like those indie folk groups I listen to." Catelyn laughs, and nods her head. It’s probably true. She can’t stand that music that Sansa normally listens to. They talk for a few solid hours. Sansa tells stories about her life in Highgarden, and they reminisce about old times. Eventually, Catelyn drifts off to sleep in the passenger seat.

 

They get a room in a tiny hotel a little South of Moat Cailin, and get checked out of the hotel by 8:00 the next morning to start the drive. When they cross the border into the Westerlands, _West End Girls_ by Pet Shop Boys starts playing.

“Oh my Seven, Sansa,” Catelyn says. Sansa starts laughing.

“I didn’t do that on purpose." 

“Sure you didn’t," Catelyn says, rolling her eyes. 

“I just had it on shuffle,” Sansa swears. They listen to the whole song, which honestly wasn’t very good back in the eighties when it came out. Then, the music stops abruptly. Catelyn sends her daughter a confused look.

“What is it?” she asks. Sansa smiles at her while keeping her eyes on the road.

"I'm glad you found someone," Sansa says.

“Wait, what do you mean?” Catelyn asks. She thought that she’d been subtle about her feelings.

“You know, your friend,” Sansa says. She takes her right hand off the wheel to put air quotes over the word friend.  
  
"I didn't, I mean-"  
  
"Mom," Sansa says, "I'm your gay daughter. You can tell me if this woman's your girlfriend. You know that, right?"  Catelyn laughs, a little awkwardly.  
  
"I guess I have been weird about this," she says. She didn’t think that her kids would have a problem with the woman part. She just worried about how they’d react to her dating someone who’s not their father.  
  
"I'm just not used to being out, Sansa," she says. That doesn’t really cover the scope of things, but she doesn’t want to have the full conversation, not now. And since she doesn’t want to have it now, she probably won’t have it ever. The doctors say she has three months to live, the same as they’ve been saying for a year.  
  
"Yeah," Sansa says, "I figured."

“You know you can talk to me about anything,” Sansa says. Catelyn laughs. Her laugh turns into a cough, and Sansa sends her a confused look. It takes a minute for Catelyn to get her cough under control, but she holds her hand up to let Sansa know she’s alright.

“That’s supposed to be my line,” Catelyn says, voice a little gravely from the coughing, “I’m the parent.” Catelyn expects Sansa to say something joking in return. Instead, Sansa gives her something heartfelt.

“Children love their parents too,” Sansa says. Catelyn should just leave it there. It’s a sweet moment. It’s a sweet moment, but they’re an hour away from Lannisport, and Sansa doesn’t know what’s going to happen when they get there. Catelyn thinks that she really needs to tell her daughter what’s going on before that. She sighs.

“I um,” Catelyn says, “I wanted to tell you this won’t be a terribly happy reunion.” Sansa shoots her a confused look, and then looks back at road.

“Cersei has been completely paralyzed since she was twenty one years old,” Catelyn says, her voice shaking, “she wants to pass over to San Junipero, permanently, but her father won’t let her. She’s going to marry this nurse she barely knows so that she can get approval for them to pull the plug.”

“Oh, wow,” Sansa says, “that’s heavy.”  
  
“Yeah,” Catelyn says, laughing awkwardly, “it won’t be happy.”

“It can be,” Sansa tells her. And on that cryptic note, Sansa turns the music back on and Tears For Fears's _Everybody Wants to Rule the World_ starts blaring. Neither of them speak for the rest of the drive.

  


They get to Cersei’s care facility at 3 o’clock in the afternoon.

 

“Are you ready?” Sansa asks cautiously.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Catelyn says. Then, they walk into the building together.

“You’re a new face,” the receptionist says.

“I’m here to see Cersei Lannister,” Catelyn says.

“Oh,” the receptionist says, a small smile coming to her face, “you must be Catelyn. I’ll call Taena.” _Taena,_ Catelyn thinks, _the nurse Cersei is marrying._

“I’m Taena Merryweather,” the woman says. She’s tall, dark-skinned, and gorgeous, even with her hair tied in a messy bun and in scrubs with rubber ducks on them.

“You must be the fiance,” Catelyn says shakily. She knows the arrangement that Cersei and Taena had. She knows why they planned to marry, and that there was no romance involved. She can’t help feeling a little jealous of her, though. The woman is around thirty, at the peak of her beauty, and she’s going to marry Cersei Lannister.

 _That_ ’s something that Catelyn envies.

“I am,” she says, “and you must be the girlfriend.” She holds her hand out to shake, which is odd for a woman as young as she is. Perhaps it’s a courtesy for Catelyn’s sake, but Catelyn shakes anyways.

“I am,” Catelyn says shakily. Sansa smiles so widely it looks like it might hurt.

“I’ve heard all about you, Catelyn Stark,” Taena says.

“Oh my gosh,” Sansa says, which sounds weirder now that she’s 50 than it did when she was 15. Sansa grabs her arm.

“Mom, she told her about you!” Sansa says.

“I hope they were good things,” Catelyn says. Taena smiles at her.

“It was _all_ good things,” Taena says, “she’s quite fond of you.” Catelyn feels her heart beating deep within her chest.

“I’m so glad that you’ve come,” Taena says, “Cersei doesn’t get many visitors.” Catelyn bites her lip, and tries not to think about the years that Cersei spent terrified and powerless, literally paralyzed. She thinks about the homophobic father who drove her to crashing her car, and won’t let her pass over to a happier life now.

 

Catelyn is glad that she’s come too.

 

“Let’s go,” Taena says with a wry smile, “none of us are getting any younger.” Catelyn chuckles, and then Taena leads them through the halls of the hospital. Eventually they come to Cersei’s room.

  
Cersei lies, lifeless, on a hospital bed. She’s wearing a white hospital gown that completely washes out her white complexion, and that Cersei herself would never be caught dead in. Cersei likes gem tones, bright reds and blues and greens. They bring out the gold of her hair and the green of her eyes.

Her golden hair is completely white, and she has wrinkled in all the places that Catelyn expected her to. It’s hard to see the woman she has only seen so lively so lifeless. Then again, she thinks Cersei might think the same thing, if she were to see Catelyn as old as she is. She has shrunk three inches since her youth, her hair has gone completely white, her skin is baggy and wrinkled, and she can barely walk with her walker and her oxygen tank.

But then again, she _is_ dying. Cersei’s not dying, she just never got to live. God, Catelyn wants to help her get out of this place. She wants to help her live the life she never got to have.

“Are you alright?” Sansa asks softly. Catelyn nods her head.

“Taena?” Catelyn asks

“How would you feel if I married Cersei instead?” Catelyn asks. Sansa’s face lights up.

“Mom, this is- this is _perfect_.” Her daughter has always believed in true love and fairy tale endings, and once she left Joffrey Baratheon and his abuse, she found it. Catelyn hasn’t seen her this excited since her own wedding day to Margaery Tyrell.

“I would love that,” Taena says.

“Do you think that she’d say yes?” Catelyn asks cautiously.

“I know it,” Taena tells her. They get her hooked up to the machine, and Sansa holds her hand. A moment later, she is standing on the soft sand. She catches a glimpse of Cersei sitting on the beach, her blonde hair rustling in the wind. She’s wearing a red top and denim shorts.

“Cersei,” Catelyn says shakily. Cersei turns around, like she doesn’t believe her ears. Then she looks surprised when she sees her.

“Cat?” she asks, pushing herself up off of the ground.

“I had a question to ask you,” Catelyn says, and she smiles, “well, more of a _proposal_ , really.” Cersei sends her a confused look.

“So I know that Taena’s nice, and pretty, and I know that you’re just marrying her so that you can pass over, but I thought, maybe you could marry someone you’ve made more of a connection with.” Cersei looks awestruck.

“Cat,” she says, trailing off gently.

“Will you marry me instead?” Catelyn asks. Cersei wraps her arms around her waist.

“Yes, you idiot,” Cersei says, “yes.”

“You’ve got to say I do,” Catelyn teases. Cersei hugs her tighter, like she's afraid Catelyn will slip away.

“I do to all of it,” Cersei says, “I want you to be my goddamn wife, Catelyn Stark.” Catelyn kisses her, and they fall onto the sand. Catelyn laughs as some of it gets in her shorts.

“Will you pass over?” Cersei asks her. Catelyn has thought about this a lot, about the pros and cons, about the morality of it all. She’s thought about the possibility of an actual afterlife, the possibility of seeing Ned again, and about the possibility this thing with Cersei will all go down in flames. She has also thought of the possibility that it won’t, and Seven, Catelyn wants to see if they can make this work. She wants to give this a go.

“Yes,” Catelyn says, “yes I will.” Cersei laughs as she kisses her, and then Catelyn is ripped out of San Junipero.

  
  
  


“Congratulations!” Sansa says, wrapping her up in yet another hug.

“Sansa,” Catelyn says, “you’re crushing me.” Sansa softens the hug, and then eventually breaks it. Her daughter has tears in her eyes.  
  
"I'm so happy for you," Sansa says. Catelyn nods. Catelyn refuses to act solemn as they pull Cersei’s plug. She will see her in a week, and it will be in a better place. Cersei will be happier where she’s going.

“Thank you, Catelyn,” Taena says. Catelyn nods, and she and Sansa head out of the hospital. Sansa gently drapes her arm around Catelyn’s neck as they walk to the car.  
  
"You're a married woman again, mom," Sansa says, waggling her eyebrows.

“Ned and I were never that hasty,” Catelyn says. They had waited the proper allotment of time for everything: dating, sex, marriage, children. But she and Cersei don’t have time to wait. They only have time to live.

 

They get in the car, and Sansa doesn’t start the music. Which, of course, means that she wants to talk. 

“Are you going to pass over?” Sansa asks, her voice cracking slightly. They both know that Catelyn’s death is inevitable. She has been dying for a year, and her condition has stagnated. Knowing that she’s dying, however, does not make it any easier to talk about. Catelyn bites her lip. She doesn’t know if she’s ready to tell her children. Her passing might be months away, but it might also be weeks, or days. She just- she doesn’t know yet.

“I don’t want to tell you what to do,” Sansa says.

“It sounds like you’re going to,” Catelyn points out.

“I just- I don’t want you to feel bad, if you wanted to,” Sansa says, “if there is an afterlife, dad would understand. He’s got his whole family, and it sounds like Cersei only has you.”

“Thank you, Sansa,” Catelyn says. She means it, but she also means it as a “this is the end of this discussion” sort of thing. Her daughter takes the hint. Sansa turns on the music, and Drive by _The Cars_ starts playing. Catelyn thinks it’s a little too on the nose.

 

By the time they get back to Catelyn's house, she's made her decision. 

“Sansa,” she says, “I actually, I have something I need to tell you kids.” Sansa nods.

“I’ll call them up,” she says. Then, she looks a bit more serious. 

“Do you think it’s real this time?” Sansa asks. Catelyn’s not sure which part her daughter means: the love, her dying, but she only knows one answer.

“Yes,” Catelyn says, “I think it is.”

 

Robb and Arya come over with thirty minutes, and they get Jon, Bran, and Rickon on Skype.

“What is it mom?” Robb asks. They all know that it’s something of the last will and testimony variety, but none of them know exactly what.

“I’m going to pass over,” Catelyn tells her children.

“What?” Robb says, “mom, you can’t be serious.”

“I am,” she promises him.

“You can’t live in that Dornish beach town forever,” Robb says.

“Robb,” Arya says, “it’s mom’s life.”

“It’s only been around a few years,” Robb says, “they haven’t run very many tests. They don’t know how stable the program is.”

“That is a valid concern,” Bran says, “it’s like a radical cancer treatment. We don’t know all of the effects.” Rickon rolls his eyes.

“A cancer treatment is a cancer treatment,” he says, “and an afterlife’s an afterlife. It’s not like it can be worse than being dead. Then she’d just be gone. We’d definitely never see her again, like dad.” Rickon sounds as bitter as he always does when talking about Ned, because he died when Rickon was so young he barely remembers him.

“Rickon,” Catelyn says.

“Rickon’s not wrong,” Arya says, “if mom wants this, we should be _happy._ Once we’re dying, we’ll be able to see her again.”  
  
“Assuming the technology is stable enough to hold that long,” Bran says.

“What do you think, Jon?” Arya asks. He’s been quiet so far.

“Ygritte says I know nothing,” Jon says, “so why should I chime in on this?” That prompts a laugh from everyone.

“Mom,” Robb says, “this is crazy. Why would you even _want_ that?”

“I’m dying,” he says, “and I want to spend my afterlife somewhere I know there is one.” 

“I’m going to pass over,” Catelyn says, “but I would like if I passed over with your approval.” She loves her kids so much, but she’s _going_ to die. It’s unavoidable at this point. Now she’s just deciding what’s going to happen afterwards. Robb nods.

“Do what you think is best,” Bran says.

“I love you mom,” Robb says, hugging her tightly.

“Get in here,” Catelyn says, and suddenly she feels both of her daughters’ arms wrap around her as well.

“Imagine me hugging you,” Bran says, and she can hear Jon laughing.

“I love you,” she says, “all six of you.”

“Seven, mom,” Arya says, “why’d you and dad have so much sex? There’s so _many_ of us.”

“Because we loved each other _very_ much,” Catelyn says.

“Ew, ew, ew,” Arya says, breaking the hug. The other two break off as well.

“You ruined the moment, mom,” Robb says.

“I love you so much, you know that?” Catelyn says. Robb nods, Arya snorts, and Sansa smiles. She doesn’t know what either Jon or Bran do, but she hears Rickon shout “of fucking course!” The conversation trails off, awkwardly, and Catelyn sees a few tears that no one will admit to.

This feels more like goodbye than anyone wants to acknowledge.

Sansa leaves in the morning, and she promises her that she will call every day. She won’t, of course. Schedules get hectic and lives get in the way, but Catelyn knows that she will try. Sansa loves her, and makes the time for her that she can.

 

Things settle back down, and Catelyn dies. She dies slowly, but she dies. Once a week, she visits Cersei in San Junipero, and they run on the beach, or they dance at the club, or they make love in a big, silk bed. She feels young again, and every time she has to go back to dying she wants to get it over with. She just wants to pass over already.

Then one day, Catelyn Stark dies for good. Not the slow way that she has been for more than a year. She dies abruptly in her sleep. She wouldn’t even notice if she hadn’t woken up in San Junipero. If she didn’t know that it wasn’t her day to visit.

 

She’s dead, and Seven is she relieved. She’s so glad to have the dying part over with. She’s ready for the living.

  
She sees Cersei out on the pier, hair billowing in the wind, just like the day they got married. This time, Catelyn doesn’t have to call out to her. Cersei turns around and her face lights up when she spots her.  
  
"Is this it?” she asks cautiously. Catelyn laughs happily, taking Cersei’s hands in hers.  
  
"Yeah," Catelyn says, "I'm here for good this time." Cersei smiles at her, big and wide.  
  
"Welcome home.”  



End file.
